


Lazy Writing

by RaisingCaiin



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: . . . so this happened, ALL THE MOVIE SPOILERS, Dirty Jokes, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Metafiction, Multi, Spoilers, i hated that line so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaisingCaiin/pseuds/RaisingCaiin
Summary: Fridging the original female lead and love interest in order to forestall the possibility of domestic fulfillment and set off a revenge narrative is just lazy writing of the most cliché kind, even if it does mean that he gets a whole second movie and an original single by five-time Grammy award-winning artist Celine Dion. Mmmm mmmmmmmmm. . .





	Lazy Writing

**Author's Note:**

> hearing bird's and bee's reactions after they saw this movie was the best thing ever, and inspired so much of this fic <333

 

Fridging the original female lead and love interest in order to forestall the possibility of domestic fulfillment and set off a revenge narrative is just lazy writing of the most cliché kind, even if it _does_ mean that he gets a whole second movie and an original single by five-time Grammy award-winning artist Celine Dion. Mmmm mmmm _mmmmm_. . .

But as the strains of an acoustic A-ha cover play around him, Wade finds that he almost doesn’t care about the blatant nod to industry expectations. Vanessa may have been fridged, but now he, Wade, has also been iced. Suck _that_ , Logan!

Trading sappy but heartfelt dialogue for like the fourth time this movie alone, Wade has never felt more alive. “And you should be extra proud of me for that zinger,” he tells Vanessa. “Get it? Because I’m actually dead this time?”

Vanessa rolls her eyes, but she’s already grinning, gearing up for a retort, and Wade grins back, pre-appreciating the fact that at least some screenwriters realize the “write strong women” paradigm doesn’t actually boil down to “write fighting fucktoys.”

But before she can actually say anything to this end Vanessa suddenly frowns, her hand rising to gently touch his cheek, and oh fuck Wade has watched enough rom-coms and war movies to know what that means.

Sure enough: “It’s not time.”

“What do you mean, it’s not time?” he asks, whining just a little as he leans into the touch. “I mean, I know what you _probably_ mean, I suspected that me dying provided just a _little_ too much narrative closure for a sequel, but – baby, please, I don’t want to go back.”

But the CGI for the whole underwater-means-dying visual sequence is already starting to tug at his back, and Vanessa smiles like she knows it. And maybe she does - out of all the other characters in this film franchise, she’s always been the most aware of its self-reflexive ridiculousness.

Well, her and Weasel. But Wade doesn’t want to be focusing on that right now if this really is going to be his last canon interaction with his girlfriend for the foreseeable future.

“I wanna stay here with you,” he tells her. And then – gotta milk the angst for all it’s worth – : “I’ve been through enough, don't you think?”

But CGI and franchise demands and, apparently, Cable’s much-hyped last time jump/body slide, will not be denied. So Wade scrambles to think of one last zinger before he gets pulled back out of their own little slice of secular heaven.

Something - and this is weird on at least a couple of levels - is prompting him to say _Don't fuck Elvis._

Huh. He ignores it.

“Don’t forget me, baby.”

“Don’t fuck Colossus,” Vanessa counters easily.

Wait. Wait wait wait wait _wait_. CGI be damned for just a hot second, and the screenplay too! There’s no way Wade’s returning to life without pushing back against that at least a little!

“Ummm, baby? Me and Piotr had some real onscreen chemistry and someone fought real hard to get the studio to let Reynolds confirm I’m pansexual? I mean, if eternal monofidelity is what you want it’s what you want, and you know I’d do it for you, but - it also just seems kinda out of character for both of us? Plus, a really super convenient way for the studio to forestall any explorations of that pan claim?”

Vanessa grins again, and if this were one of his comics then Wade would have little yellow text boxes to confirm his suspicion that she’s about to go off-script with him. But since this is a mainstream superhero film, he can only wait, breath coming a little faster, to hear her verdict.

“You’re right, I wouldn't,” she says softly. “But babe - give Nate a chance too?”

Oh. O-ho. O- _hoooooo_.

“Knew there had to be a reason I loved you,” he tells her. “And you know I don’t mean that in a ‘just because you enable me’ kind of way, right? Ok. Go get some hot angel ass until I get back, baby. Though you can do way better than, like, a Nicholas Cage from _City of Angels_ type, I’m thinking more a - _aaaaaaah_ ”

There isn’t even time to rehash the whole well-trod ‘Misha Collins does a good angel even if his show is crap’ argument before the inexorable CGI tide is dragging Wade back to the main narrative present, but from Vanessa’s laughter and the loving middle finger she gives him as she recedes back into unreachability, she already knew exactly what Wade was going to say.

 

~ ~ ~

Look, denouements are a bitch to handle, and Wade gets that. The big boss battle is over, any dramatic deaths have happened or been retconned, and the editors have to scramble to stitch up any loose ends before the credits and the interminable waiting for that terrible post-credit scene that’s supposed to make sitting through any MCU movie worth it. 

And sure Wade can appreciate that he’s MCU now too – suck that, Thanos! Though a different Brolin character can suck something else – but this? This is ridiculous.

“This is ridiculous!”

They’d made it out of the orphanage ruins in record time and Wade had proposed the Hellhouse for drinks, because what else do you do after a shitshow of that magnitude? Domino had breezed right in, and Cable had rolled his eyes and followed, but it had taken some persuasion – and some outright lies, and a finger jabbed at the old “St. Margaret’s School” sign – to get Colossus inside the place. Worth it, though, just to see the tin man drink Weasel’s worst concoctions without flinching, and Weasel blanch more and more with every bad wallbanger and blowjob that Colossus downed. And amidst all the awkward, faltering small talk that came out of trying to drink with two men and one woman who barely knew each other and probably could have used professional help to sort through their various issues before they rejoined the human race, it came out that Cable had no place to go while recovering from the impending hangover.

Well of course he didn’t – Wade could slap himself for the oversight, and not even somewhere fun. Man of the future, home burned down, da dee da dee _DA_.

 “C’mon, Cable. We’re really gonna end this extravaganza by arguing about a housing sitch?”

 “Nobody’s arguing but you, asshole,” Cable rumbles, and _whoowhee_ but that _voice_ coming from that _height_ does _delicious_ things south of the Canadian border.

And Colossus on Cable’s other side slurping down his third blowjob in as many minutes? Not. Helping.

“I’ve made do with worse,” Cable continues, and oh Wade has just about had it with this.

“You know what? I’m sure you have, what with your whole ‘messiah to save us from an apocalyptic future we deserve’ shtick, but that doesn’t mean you have to. Yeah?” By this point Wade is already metastasizing an idea to get that time-jumper doodad fixed, but there are at least four really really important mistakes he could use it to, erm, _correct_ , before giving it back to Cable and sending him on his merry way, so in the meantime. . . “You can bunk with me until you get your fanny-bag-toting shit together.”

“You too have no place to go, Wade,” Colossus rumbles. Fuck fuck fuck, they _both_ do it, Wade is so screwed. . . “I drag you from apartment, yes? That you try to blow up with you inside?”

This delivery isn’t hindered in any way by the tiny dab of whatever cream Weasel uses on his blowjobs that’s gotten stuck on the tin man’s upper lip.

Wade is so so _soooooo_ screwed.

“You did _what_?” Cable asks, already fuming as he slams his own regrettably mundane beer down on the counter with a crash that shouldn’t be possible out of a plain old aluminum can.

Portentous.

Domino, on Colossus’s other side, winks at Wade. “Told you – luck is real.”

“Make it so, number one,” Wade breathes. “Please.”

Domino snickers. “Sorry, Red, this one is all on you.”

“Stop _ignoring_ me, asshole,” Cable snarls. “You tried to off yourself? Why?”

“The writers fridged my girl _and_ my biggest in-Sony contender, and that’s not even counting what we’re gonna have to put up with when we really do get integrated with the MCU post- _Infinity War I_ ,” Wade says absently, patting Cable’s shoulder – oooooo- _GAH_ , the _metal_ one – even as his eyes never leave the bit of cream decorating Colossus’s frown. “You don’t need to give me the talk, though – I’m better now, Wade’s good out here, just trying to realign my worldview in light of the fact that Tin Man is right about something _again_.”

Colossus shakes his head, sighing as he picks up his fourth blowjob, and even Wade’s healing factor isn’t going to save him if this keeps on.

And whoops, he’s still got his hand on Cable’s shoulder. Better do something about that, unless he wants to go through all the trouble of regrowing it.

But he’s just pulling away when Cable’s hand comes up with surprising swiftness, pinning Wade’s where it had originally landed.

“No,” he growls, in that Brolin voice that he puts to so much better use than Thanos ever could. “I didn’t stop that kid from offing you just so you could do the job yourself. Fine. I’ll bunk with you.”

 _Luck_ , Domino mouths, raising her drink.

“That, and thirsty fic writers who can spot a good thing ten miles out, but sure,” Wade murmurs, agreeing with her absently. Even Cable’s flesh hand is solid and heavy – whoowhee, _someone_ out there sure remembered all of Wade’s kinks and thirst dreams from the 2004-2008 _Cable and Deadpool -_ and Wade can tell he's about two minutes away from doing something incredibly stupid.  “And Terminator, I am _not_ disagreeing – fuck knows just how badly I want to live out the whole roommates trope with you – but I’m temporarily homeless too, remember?”

Cable’s hand over Wade’s hand on Cable’s shoulder clenches.

Ooooh.

Domino seems to be smirking into her drink.

“What about Al’s?” asks Weasel, ever the mouth-breather who wouldn’t recognize a clue if it threatened to shoot him in the goddamn face.

 “As much as I love the woman, Weas, Blind Al is _blind_ ,” Wade explains slowly, with as much patience as he can muster in these trying times. “She’s not _deaf_. And even if she can’t aim that gun, she can certainly still _fire_ it. I don’t want to risk it.”

. . . Yep, Domino is _definitely_ smirking into her drink.

“Huh?” wonders Weasel, still a mouth-breathing mouth-breather.

“I think Mr. Pool wants to fuck with Mr. Cable,” Dopinder offers, trundling past with the mop.

Oh for fuck’s _sake_. And now Domino is actually snorting into her drink.

Cable’s hand finally drops, and Wade snatches his own back like he’s been burned.

“Oh,” Colossus says with a sigh. “бля.” He downs his – what, his fifth? – blowjob like he’s never going to get another, and Wade can feel his blood pressure skyrocketing.

See, this is why denouements suck, and not in the fun way! People actually have to _talk_!

“Hey! I don’t know what that means, Tin Man, but you had your shot and you didn’t take it! I don’t know what a nice long ass-grab means in Russia, but up in Canada it usually means ‘I like this ass and everything attached to it and I wanna do respectful but dirty things to it within whatever confines the owner fully and enthusiastically consents to’!”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Weasel whinges. “Wade, please negotiate your threesomes somewhere other than my poor bar.”

“Do you _wanna_ lose your liver?” ‘Cause that’s what happens when Wade loses his patience – other people tend to lose things too. “No? Then shut up.”

“And you!” Now that Colossus has had his share of the mouth of the merc, it’s only fair that Wade rounds on Cable next. “What the hell was that with the chapstick and the sustained eye contact and the ‘you remind me of my wife’ line? I got the first fully sustained erection of my newly regrown lower half because of you! There’s no way to misinterpret an ass-grab, but that little routine? That could mean anything from ‘the writers are leveraging my bisexuality for a cheap laugh’ to ‘yes asshole I will give up any chance of returning to my bio-family because I find sufficient emotional fulfillment in knowing you survive’ and about a million grey spaces in between! What the hell gives?”

And since he’s on a roll, why not include everyone in the fun?

“And do you know what The Powers That Be would have made my girlfriend say to me? ‘Don’t fuck Colossus.’ That is some actual, grade-A, out-of-character bullshit! Look, the way my healing factor and the Disney corporation’s hold on copyrighted properties work, there’s no telling when I’ll actually get back to her by dying for good, so why the fuck would she tell me that unleeeeeess-“ he counts the items off on shaking fingers – “a) she was being made to look like a jealous and controlling bitch, which is just fucking low and not true _at all,_ or b) they were that scared of what I’d do without an order from on high delimiting my sexuality, or hey maybe c) all of the above! Either way – thanks, I hate it!”

And now everyone in the Hellhouse is staring at him, except Domino, who’s grinning into her drink and Dopinder, who’s humming off-tune as he swabs the dirty floor with dirtier water.

Wonderful.

Wade folds his arms on the counter, drops his head into them, and groans.

“Weasel, you still got that back room? I think I’m drunk.”

“You – you told me you can’t get drunk anymore, Wade,” Weasel says nervously.

“Fuck you and fuck the lies that I told you in anticipation of this very moment.” Wade can hear how muffled his voice sounds but this is a turning point in the story, so of course Weasel will be able to hear him somehow. “Just kick whoever you’ve got back there out on their ass and lemme lie down for a lifetime, I’m sure everything will be fine once these two forget that I exist.”

And then there’s a hand on _his_ shoulder this time and it’s not Weasel’s, it’s too heavy to even be Cable’s, which means. . .

“Is not possible that I forget,” Colossus rumbles. “When you have made me rethink what it means to be hero.”

Wade is just gearing up to go to town on this, the second-most steamingest load of bullshit he has ever heard in his life, when the weight of Colossus’s hand on one shoulder is mirrored by the weight of Cable’s on the other. “Someone who’s as much of an asshole as you are is bound to be pretty tough to forget. Asshole.”

In the cinematic silence that follows Wade can hear Alyse, a small-timer who sits in the corner, yell “How the hell does _Wade_ wind up with two partners?”

“Shut _up_!” Dopinder yells back. “Mr. Pool is trying his very best and you are not making it harder for him!”

Oh fuck, if his Kirsten Dunst is going to start speaking up for him that means it’s high time Wade makes a move of his own. “Dopinder. Thanks. But this is gonna have to be another one of those things we never speak about again.”

“Oh, ok.” Dopinder _sounds_ crestfallen. Good.

“But good for you, only very virile man like you Mr. Pool can manage this!”

. . . Obviously not crestfallen enough.

“More drinks, I am thinking,” Colossus says, patting Wade’s shoulder with all the gentle deadliness of a solid steel hand. “As way of dealing. And we should be talking.”

Cable doesn’t add anything, but his hand lingers even when Colossus’s has disappeared, probably in search of – hah! – yet another blowjob. 

On second thought, maybe Wade will keep his head where it is, buried safe in his arms on the counter.

“Yes to the drinkies, pass on the talkies, and Dopinder, the only reason I’m not killing you for saying that is because we’re such amazing friends.”

Super-vision has never been his thing, but Wade would be willing to bet that Dopinder is currently fist-pumping. Amazing.

“Well, that was terrible and I never want to witness anything like it ever again,” Weasel says conversationally, and there’s the sound of another glass being slid over toward Colossus. “So. What now, people?”

Ok, now there’s something worth looking up for. “A nice hard Fergie-style London Bridge, of course, as soon as Tin Can has had enough of your blowjobs and wants to try one of mine,” Wade says cheerfully, admiring the lengths to which Colossus can spit his drinks when surprised. But really, Weasel is a mouth-breathing moron with no imagination to speak of – has he even _seen_ these two? “So. What’s the down-low on that back room of yours, Weas? _My_ back room is feeling kinda empty and I wanna do something about that as soon as I can.”

Weasel is too busy ignoring Wade to actually answer this, but it all works out in the end as Domino cocks her head.

“Actually,” she says slowly. “I know a guy who’s got a short-term place. Maybe you can solve both the housing sitch and the backroom sitch all in one go.”

Whoever said _deus ex machinas_ were lazy writing had obviously never compared them with gratuitous fridging. Wade decides that that he wants this tattooed on his ass where both pillars of the forthcoming London Bridge can see it nice and easy.

But in the meantime!

“Pour one out for Lady Luck!” he crows, grabbing for one of Colossus’s empty blowjob glasses so he can raise it in a toast, and Domino grins as she raises her own drink in turn. Cable grumbles as he regains his seat but he isn’t actually protesting, and Wade is pretty sure that Colossus will come around quick enough with a few judicious and well-timed “but think of the children” speeches about his place up at the X-McMansion.

And somewhere, Wade knows – screenwriters and movie studios be damned – Vanessa is smiling as she fondles the ass of a Misha Collins-faced angel with one hand and gives him a thumbs-up with the other.

 


End file.
